Violet
by Skittle Juice
Summary: Alice has finally returned to Underland, and the Hatter has a gift for her. Oneshot. Halice.


**A/N: My first AiW story! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I've always loved Tim Burton's take on Alice and the Hatter's dynamic, the suppressed romantic feelings they have for each other are awesome =D *sigh.* Aren't Burton couples amazing? Jack and Sally, Victor and Emily (though that one is a bit one-sided, but still equally** **incredible**),** Edward Scissorhands and Kim... gahh, I could go on forever. But I won't. Because you wanna get onto the story. So... yeah. R&R!**

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><p>His heart warmed as he watched her, a flash of blonde and blue, as she glided about the room like a vision from his sweetest dreams. She <em>was<em> the vision from his sweetest dreams, in fact. Nearly all his dreams were of Alice, so there was no one else around to claim this title, and it was bestowed upon her without hesitation.

He'd never allowed anyone else to come up here. This was his workroom, his special place. The area where he crafted hats. No one else in Underland had seen it, not that he had wanted them to. But Alice was different. Alice was special. And this was her first night back, after all, and he was so overcome by elation that allowing someone else into his personal space seemed almost trivial, at the moment.

She admired each hat with a gleam of enchantment in her eyes, as though each one captivated her more than the last. Gently, her long fingers ghosted across the assortment of fabrics, her lips pulling into an approving smile as she observed her surroundings. Hatter stood a ways behind her, clutching his own hat rather nervously in his hands, grinning madly from ear-to-ear. Alice was here. In his home. Back. And perhaps this time, she would stay. He couldn't believe his eyes, and briefly, he thought his hallucinations had been running rampant, again, but no. She was too real to be a mirage, like all the others. Much too real, much too muchy, much too _Alice_.

She stopped, suddenly, to regard a hat she had to have overlooked on accident. Her eyes lit up. She fondled it gently, feeling the lace, and the velvet, and all the trimmings underneath. Her countenance turned wistful as she took it in, longer than she had with all the others. Hatter held his breath. He shuffled forward a few steps, and absently returned his hat to its rightful place above his wild, fiery hair.

"Do you like it?" he called softly into the silence.

Alice turned, almost as though she'd forgotten he'd been in the room, and smiled warmly. A warm smile that warmed every bit of him. "Yes," she said. "It's beautiful."

Hatter grinned shyly. "I thought you might..." he came closer to her. "I made it especially for you."

Alice looked shocked at that. She blinked, stealing another quick glance at the hat before returning her gaze to him. "You did?"

"Oh, yes. I made you a hat every day you were gone. All in blue. Round hats, narrow hats, tall hats, short hats, large hats, small hats… all for you," Tarrant explained, taking another few steps closer. "But I must say, I believe this is the finest of them all."

And it truly was a fine, fine hat. It was simple, but in a way that was not so simple at all, in a way that was so perfectly _her_. He was quite proud of it. Especially as Alice turned to regard it with another long gaze, and he knew she was fond of it, as well.

"Oh, Hatter," Alice breathed. "You really didn't have to go through so much trouble..."

"Don't be silly, Alice. I _wanted_ to go through plenty of trouble!" Tarrant said dismissively. His gaze fell from hers as he spoke softly, wringing his calloused hands. "I'd go through all the trouble in the world, for you."

Alice gave him an appreciative smile. "Thank-you," she said. "It's wonderful. I absolutely love it."

Tarrant wondered how it was still possible for him to stand, if his legs had quite suspiciously turned to jelly. "I'm glad you do," he replied. He looked up again with a sudden, hopeful spark in his round, green eyes. "M-May I...?"

She understood what he'd meant. That came as no surprise to him; Alice _always_ understood what he meant, when he meant to say it a certain way, even if it came out as something that hadn't meant to be said, at all. She nodded, and with a grin that could have rivaled Chessur's, Hatter reached out and lifted the Alice-Hat from its post, lowering it above her lovely, flaxen hair.

He drew back quickly as she adjusted it; twisting the brim to fit properly around her head. The hat was a little big, but Alice's imagination was constantly expanding, so he knew she'd grow into it. She passed a hand through her long, golden curls and giggled, attempting to hold a pose. "How does it look?" she asked.

It took Hatter a moment or two to respond intelligently to that. He'd almost forgotten how pretty Alices were during the time in which he'd been away from one. What could he say? It was - she was -

"Beautiful..." he uttered distantly in response.

For a while, everything was silent. Perhaps she didn't know what to say. Hatter knew _he_ didn't. Of course, he was hardly paying attention to anything else that was happening. He was far too busy watching Alice, and the way her beautiful, blue eyes glinted as she gazed back.

The Madness started up, again. Not the frightening, unpredictable kind, but a different sort of Madness, altogether. The one that only came about whenever she was around. The Madness that sent his heartbeat into a wild frenzy, and further muddled his muddled mind, and made the room seem empty of everything but the Alice that stood in front of him.

He swallowed. "I missed you tremendously, Alice," he told her, for the umpteenth time since she'd come back, earlier this very day. "I'm so glad you're back."

She smiled sweetly at him. "I'm happy to be back. And I missed you, as well, Hatter; more than I've missed anyone in a very long time..."

Curious. The room seemed much warmer than it had been, a moment earlier. "I was afraid you wouldn't remember me. That you'd come back, and you wouldn't even know who I am, just like before..."

"Hatter..." Alice reached out and placed a tender, reassuring hand against his cheek, her fingers delicately stroking the skin. "I could never forget you. Never. Not for as long as I live."

Hatter's face warmed, and his stomach flip-flopped slightly, as if he'd suddenly walked into a room with no gravity. He watched as the kind gaze Alice was giving him morphed into one of surprise, then confusion, followed by intrigue.

"Hatter..." she began. "Your eyes..."

Tarrant blinked, puzzled. "My eyes?" he echoed.

"They're... _violet_," Alice explained.

"Violet...?"

She nodded. "Yes." The hand that was still resting on his cheek fell as she inched closer, trying to get a better look. "I don't think I've ever seen them this color, before."

He frowned a little. "Neither have I," he confessed, though he had a hunch as to what it signified. He looked at Alice, and she held the gaze, and suddenly, his mind was empty of anything but the knowledge that she was close to him. His breathing grew steadily uneven. "Do you have any idea why a raven is like a writing desk?" he asked her softly, the only thing he could think to say.

Perhaps it was all in his head, but he could have sworn she'd moved even closer to him, in that instance. "No," she said. "You never did tell me..."

It soon became quite apparent just how close she really was, and she really _was_ close. This knowledge sent the Hatter's Madness spiraling out of control, again, almost to the point where he felt lightheaded and weak just being near her. Was the room truly spinning? Or was it all the work of his mind? Was Time up to his old tricks, freezing himself before Tarrant's very eyes? And why, for the love of the White Queen, did he feel so... so...

In a flash, he kissed her, the action so swift and sudden it almost felt involuntary. He couldn't tell if she was taken aback by this. He couldn't tell if he'd startled her, whether she was shocked that her dear old friend the Mad Hatter was kissing her in such an un-Tarrant-like manner, or whether she'd been expecting it, from the start. All he was sure of was that he'd _wanted_ to kiss her, ached to, and he'd gotten so swept up in this longing that he'd acted without thinking. He'd have to apologize later to Caution for throwing it to the wind, for acting so impulsively and kissing Alice...

Wait a minute... he was kissing Alice!

Quickly, as though he'd been shocked, the Hatter tore away from his friend, stumbling backwards. Shock, guilt, and fear flickered into his eyes, and their violet hue faded to its usual shade of emerald. He was panting and anxious, and Alice looked just as surprised as he was, though something else he couldn't recognize was also dancing in her countenance.

Immediately, Tarrant tried to explain himself. He had to. He was a gentleman, after all! He didn't want Alice to feel he wasn't worthy of her company. Mad he might have been, but Rude he was certainly not! He had to attempt to regain some form of respect from her. Why, he wouldn't be surprised if she never wanted to speak to him, again. Her first night back in Underland, and already he'd tried to attack her! She deserved so much better than that. How could he have been so thoughtless?

"A-Alice, I… I…" he shook his head to the clear it of its vast, distracting thoughts. "I'm so terribly, _terribly_ sorry. I-I don't know what I was thinking. How could I have done such a wretched, vile, impolite, lecherous, disrespectful, shameful -"

He would have finished his sentence, had Opportunity allowed him the chance. But, instead, Opportunity seemed to be in Alice's favor, this evening. A wise fellow that Opportunity is. He must have told her that the quickest way to cease a Hatter's apologetic rambling is to kiss him back, and it had certainly worked.

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><p><strong>AN: I'd love it if you could review ;)**


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